


The World We're Gonna Make

by Ravenclaw_Peredhel



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Legolas Greenleaf, Caring Thranduil, Celebrimbor Makes Bad Life Choices, Celebrimbor has a sister, Celebrimbor's Life is a Tragedy, Curufin has a daughter, F/M, Good Parent Thranduil, Maybe - Freeform, Parent Thranduil, Protective Thranduil, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26047744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel
Summary: Two times Tindomiel Curufiniel sang for grief and one time she sang for joy.
Relationships: Ereinion Gil-galad & Thranduil, Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil, Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil's Wife, Thranduil & Thranduil's Wife, Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Thranduil/Thranduil's Wife
Kudos: 13





	1. Broken Tightrope

She thought that the worst pain she could feel was when her mother died and her father went insane with grief and guilt. She was wrong. 

When she saw her baby brother's body lying broken before her, she could feel the world cracking beneath her and her living heart being pulled out of her chest. She screamed, flinging herself across him, trying desperately to find a pulse, a breath, any sign that her brother lived. All she found was dried blood and broken bones inside a soulless shell. 

She wept then, the world turning grey around her. What right did she have to outlive her brother? Her little, baby brother, who she raised and taught and loved. What did she have to live for? She might have Faded there and then, but warm arms came around her, comforting her even as their owner shook with sobs that spoke of a grief just as great as her own. She gulped down her sobs, remembering that she was not the only one to lose him. Gathering her courage, Tindomiel stood, holding her cousin in her arms, supporting him as he shook with grief and loss, finding comfort in her arms as he had when he was a child. 

His warmth and life so near her reminded her that she had not only raised and loved Celebrimbor, not just her baby brother lying dead and broken on the ground, but also Ereinion. She had raised him too, teaching him, clothing him, scolding him and comforting him. She was probably the closest thing that he had to a mother, and she could not break down when he needed her. She could not abandon him too. "Shhh. It's alright. Do not begrudge him peace. Look at him Inya-Mahtar*. We could not have healed him. We would only have trapped him in a life of pain, and he would have hated us for it. Look at his face. All the pain is gone Ereinion. Gone. He is with our family in the Halls of Waiting. He won't suffer any more, I promise. It's alright Inya-Mahtar. Cry all you want, but the pain is gone, he is healed the best way that he could be." Gil-galad raised his head from his foster mother/second cousin's shoulder, his face stained with tears. 

"But he's gone too."

Afterwards, it was all a bit of a blur for her. She organised lodgings and food for the combined armies, made arrangements for funerals, checked supplies, and generally kept everything running. Every now and then grief would pierce her carefully held shield and she would collapse. But _he_ was always there to help her, and he would sit by her and hold her as she wept. 

She put off her baby brother's funeral as long as possible. But eventually, she could delay no longer. 

"My lady." She looked up, seeing the hand extended to her by some foppish Noldorin courtier, the Master of Ceremonies see thought. "As his nearest female relative, you are expected to sing." She drew in a sharp breath, before nodding. 

She stepped up to the bier, steeling herself to look into it. He lay there, his face drawn and white, but peaceful, and a little triumphant. His broken body was cleaned and arranged so that he looked as though he were sleeping, save that he had his eyes closed. A sharp agonising pain seared through her heart as she realised that she would never again see her baby brother this side of the Sundering Seas. Her knees buckled, and she thought for a moment that she would fall.

But she stood strong and took a deep breath in. She could do this. She was famous for her voice, for its strength and beauty, she could sing for her baby brother one more. The music she was supposed to sing was tossed aside. Tyelpë would not have wanted a great lay of his deeds. Instead, she sang a song that he loved, that was their own song. When he was a little boy, she had begun the tradition of sneaking away from their quarters in Nargothrond, from their father insane with grief and the memories of their mother permeating every inch. They would go to the cliffs over the river Narog and dance along them, and they always sang the same song. When they fled to their uncle Fingon, they would dance along the rooftops in the morning, singing that song. It was their song, and so she would sing it for him, one last time.

Her voice was clear and sweet, carrying through the dead city. The familiar words steadied her, reminded her of simpler times, dancing on cliffs and rooftops in the sunrise.

_Some people long for a life that is simple and planned_

_Tied with a ribbon._

_Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land_

_To follow what's written_  
_But I'd follow you to the great unknown_  
_Off to a world we call our own_

_Hand in my hand and we promised to never let go_  
_We're walking the tightrope_  
_High in the sky_  
_We can see the whole world down below_  
_We're walking the tightrope_  
_Never sure, never know how far we could fall_  
_But it's all an adventure_  
_That comes with a breathtaking view_  
_Walking the tightrope_

_With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_  
_With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_  
_With you_

_Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between_  
_Desert and ocean_  
_You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream_  
_Always in motion_  
_So I risk it all just to be with you_  
_And I risk it all for this life we choose_

_Hand in my hand and you promised to never let go_  
_We're walking the tightrope_  
_High in the sky_  
_We can see the whole world down below_  
_We're walking the tightrope_  
_Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?_  
_Well, it's all an adventure_  
_That comes with a breathtaking view_  
_Walking the tightrope_

_With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_  
_With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_  
_With you_  
_With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh_

_With you, ooh-ooh-ooh_  
_With you_


	2. The Last Goodbye

"No!" Tindomiel raced towards her cousin, hoping against hope he still lived. He did indeed, but his life was fading. For how could he be expected to survive Sauron? "No, no, no. You'll be okay, I promise. Please, don't leave me too. Ereinion!" He smiled up at her, his trembling hands fluttering over her own desperate ones. 

"Don't. I'm dying 'Domiel. It's as simple as that. Don't cry, please, it's alright, honestly. I love you cousin dear but I'm afraid I have to leave you. I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about it."

She shook her head, unable to accept it. Her hands shook more than the dying ellon's as she tried to staunch the bleeding. A hand rested on her shoulder and she glance up. It was _him_. He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, before kneeling down to aid her.

"Th...thrandy." The dying king's voice was low and hoarse, but slightly mischievious. "Take ... take her home...with you. Look after her and... for Eru's sake... you two...get...get married... already." The two lovers looked up in surprise. They had tried to be covert, not considering it proper to court in the middle of a war, bu obviously they hadn't succeeded. He grinned at them, starting to laugh. "Oh ... your fac..." He stopped abruptly, his laughter freezing in his chest. His sight less eyes looked out on the stars, the ghost of his last smile lingering about him.

Tindomiel didn't react, leaning against her lover and hiding her face in his shoulder. She had seen so much of death, and she was so sick of it. She needed life, somehow.

**********

They stayed for the funeral. Galadriel sang Gil-galad's song, as she was a closer relative to him than Tindomiel. They followed the High King's last order, marrying in a quiet ceremony a few hours before they left. 

Tindomiel rode next to her new husband, away from all of the death and destruction. They would reach the Greenwood in a few days, and she longed to see trees again, great forests, teeming with life and growth.

But, as she looked back one last time, she thought she saw a white figure waving. Maybe it was just a figment of her imagination, but she could have sworn it held a spear as bright as the stars. And a song sprang unbidden to her lips, her last goodbye to her cousin.

_I saw the light fade from the sky_   
_On the wind I heard a sigh_   
_As the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers_   
_I will say this last goodbye_

_Night is now falling_   
_So ends this day_   
_The road is now calling_   
_And I must away_   
_Over hill and under tree_   
_Through lands where never light has shone_   
_By silver streams that run down to the sea_

_Under cloud, beneath the stars_   
_Over snow one winter's morn_   
_I turn at last to paths that lead home_   
_And though where the road then takes me_   
_I cannot tell_   
_We came all this way_   
_But now comes the day_   
_To bid you farewell_

_Many places I have been_   
_Many sorrows I have seen_   
_But I don't regret_   
_Nor will I forget_   
_All who took the road with me_

_Night is now falling_   
_So ends this day_   
_The road is now calling_   
_And I must away_   
_Over hill and under tree_   
_Through lands where never light has shone_   
_By silver streams that run down to the sea_

_To these memories I will hold_   
_With your blessing I will go_   
_To turn at last to paths that lead home_   
_And though where the road then takes me_   
_I cannot tell_   
_We came all this way_   
_But now comes the day_   
_To bid you farewell_

_I bid you all a very fond farewell_

A single tear streaked down her cheek, and Thranduil leaned over to wipe it away. "Tindomiel. Look ahead, not behind." She smiled at him and turned away from the shadow. It was defeated for now, and she had maybe a thousand years to look forward to of life and of light. She had sung her goodbye, and she could move on.


	3. The Brightest Colours

"He is alright now, melleth-nin." Thranduil said, placing their little son in the crib. He had been born two years to the day of the anniversary of Gil-Galad's death, and Tindomiel had wept as she named him.

She smiled wearily as he came back to bed. "He was fine anyway Thran." Then he started crying. "Just give him to me, or we won't sleep at all tonight." As soon as the three month old was in his mother's arms, he ceased crying. Thranduil snorted.

"Nana's boy." Tindomield laughed and snuggled against him.

"Sleep and tease him when he's old enough to be offended." 

*************

It was late morning when she woke to find her husband still asleep and her son just beginning to fuss. "Hush penneth, your ada is tired." She begged as she hurriedly grabbed a dark green mantle to put over her nightgown before taking Legolas and hurrying to their private gardens. Each and every flower, tree and shrub there had been planted and cared for by the royal family alone. Well, she and Thranduil. Legolas was a little too young for such things yet.

She absently hummed as she rocked her son, watching the sun rise. When Legolas gurgled she glanced down in surprise. "Do you like that song penneth? Hmm?" He gurgled againa and clapped his hands, so she smiled and then froze as she realised which song it was. It was the one that her mother used to sing to her and her brother before her death. A single tear trickled down her cheek before she brushed it away resolutely. She could not mourn forever. 

The song flowed out over the Greenwood, the elves pausing to listen as their new queen's voice carried on the wind, a promise of hope and rebirth.

_I close my eyes and I can see_   
_The world that's waiting up for me_   
_That I call my own_   
_Through the dark, through the door_   
_Through where no one's been before_   
_But it feels like home_

_They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy_   
_They can say, they can say I've lost my mind_   
_I don't care, I don't care, so call me crazy_   
_We can live in a world that we design_

_'Cause every night I lie in bed_   
_The brightest colors fill my head_   
_A million dreams are keeping me awake_   
_I think of what the world could be_   
_A vision of the one I see_   
_A million dreams is all it's gonna take_   
_A million dreams for the world we're gonna make_

_There's a house we can build_   
_Every room inside is filled_   
_With things from far away_   
_The special things I compile_   
_Each one there to make you smile_   
_On a rainy day_

_They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy_   
_They can say, they can say we've lost our minds_   
_I don't care, I don't care if they call us crazy_   
_Runaway to a world that we design_

_Every night I lie in bed_   
_The brightest colors fill my head_   
_A million dreams are keeping me awake_   
_I think of what the world could be_   
_A vision of the one I see_   
_A million dreams is all it's gonna take_   
_A million dreams for the world we're gonna make_

_However big, however small_   
_Let me be part of it all_   
_Share your dreams with me_   
_You may be right, you may be wrong_   
_But say that you'll bring me along_   
_To the world you see_   
_To the world I close my eyes to see_   
_I close my eyes to see_

_Every night I lie in bed_   
_The brightest colors fill my head_   
_A million dreams are keeping me awake_   
_A million dreams, a million dreams_   
_I think of what the world could be_   
_A vision of the one I see_   
_A million dreams is all it's gonna take_   
_A million dreams for the world we're gonna make_

_For the world we're gonna make_

**Author's Note:**

> Songs: Tightrope, from the Greatest Showman  
> The Last Goodbye, from the Battle of the Five Armies  
> A Million Dreams from the Greatest Showman
> 
> * Tiny Warrior in Quenya. It's her nickname for him from when he was little and learning to fight. Like can you imagine a little Gil-galad with a little spear and helmet. It would be so cute!


End file.
